ZARA’S POV

It was a new day, and as I made my way to school, I thought about how to talk to Ava. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was just looking out for me like any good friend would. I completely understood why she would never understand my reasons for keeping to myself.

Unlike Ava, who had rich parents that still cared about her, mine had married off and completely forgotten I even existed. I’d always had to figure things out on my own. Somehow, I managed to earn a scholarship to BW College, a prestigious university known for its elite students. The scholarship was proof of my intelligence and my only real shot at building a stable career.

I’d stayed out of trouble during my first years in college and only recently let myself get into a relationship because I thought it was the right thing to do—at least towards the end of college.

That way, I’d have someone good to spend the rest of my life with… after I got a job, of course.

But everything backfired the moment he slept with me. I kept that secret to myself because I didn’t want Ava or anyone else to know I’d been a virgin and that I let Bruce take that from me. I knew for sure that if I’d told Ava, she would have done worse to Bruce.

I stepped out of the cab with a deep breath before entering the school building. I just hoped Ava still wanted to be my friend after the way I walked out on her yesterday.

When I reached the hallway that led to my class, I noticed a commotion. People were gathered in a tight cluster, phones raised, voices buzzing. I didn’t care much for drama and was already walking past when I caught a familiar voice in the mix.

“Ava?” I called out, but the noise from the small crowd swallowed my voice. I pushed my way through until I finally saw her—posing for cameras, looking tattered but somehow still ridiculously hot.

“Ava!” I called again, louder this time. She turned, her face lighting up.

“Hey, hey! Like my new outfit?” she asked, striking a pose just for me.

My eyes swept over her, catching on the fact that parts of her shirt were cut away, leaving her innerwear in plain view.

“Fuck yeah. You look cool and hot as fuck but what’s with the fit?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she glanced at her watch and then turned to the crowd.

“Alright, times up, people. Keep it moving.”

As the crowd slowly dispersed, she turned back to me with a sly grin.

“My cousin made me do this. She wants me to rock this look for the whole week to ‘pacify’ her. But you know me. I can make anything look good.” She said with a wink.

Whatever remorse I’d felt about walking out on Ava yesterday doubled instantly.

“Ava… you didn’t have to.” I said, already feeling tears prick at my eyes.

“I told you I’d take care of it, and I did. You’re fine and that’s all that matters.”

I hugged Ava and stylishly wiped away the tear that threatened to fall. Pulling back, I said,

“Hand me the scissors.”

Ava raised her brows in confusion but passed them over. I held my shirt taut and snipped off a piece, revealing a small patch of red bra.

I looked up at her, smiling wide.

“You look like someone who just escaped the psychiatric ward.” She teased, still staring at the chopped fabric.

“Well, that’s not fair. I told you you looked hot.” I whined.

Ava rolled her eyes, took the scissors back, and cut another piece from the other side of my shirt, shaping it into a heart that revealed just a hint of my red bra. “Better. It’s giving Mean Girls vibes. Classic.”

We laughed as we made our way to class, but a knot of nervousness twisted in my stomach. I didn’t want to tarnish my reputation or risk my clean slate right before graduation. Still, I knew I had to support my friend.

“Did you hear?” Ava asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

We took our seats in my favorite place for this subject; the first bench before I responded. “About what?”

“Professor Isaiah retired last week. So yesterday history class wasn't happening.”

I paused from bringing out my study materials from my bag. “Huh? Why? But he's so good at his job.”

“I don't know.” Ava shrugged.

“So we don't have History today?” I asked.

“Apparently there's a new professor,” she replied as she reapplied her lipstick.

I was about to ask more questions when the front door creaked open. I turned slowly, and the first thing my eyes caught were polished black boots. My gaze traveled upward, following long, lean legs wrapped in dark trousers that moved with effortless grace. He stepped in with an air that was both commanding and mysterious, the kind of presence that made the room feel smaller and heavier all at once.

When my eyes finally reached his face, I froze. His hair was stark white, shimmering almost like moonlight against his olive-toned skin, framing sharp, chiseled features that seemed carved from marble. His eyes, dark and intense, scanned the room with a practiced ease, as if he were cataloging every detail.

Then his gaze locked with mine and it slowly traveled down to my ripped shirt.

“That’s our new lecturer,” Ava whispered, and my breath caught in my throat.

The Sexy Neighbor from before, was my New Lecturer.